


Precious Queen

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Decepticon/Autobot, Drama & Romance, F/M, Flirting, Injury Treatment, Major Character Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Sneaking Around, Surprises, This Ship Actually Works, Trapped In A Closet, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arcee is in one of the storage rooms on the Decepticon warship. More specifically, she's trapped in there with Megatron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precious Queen

_Scrap_ , Arcee thought to herself viciously, following it with a few fouler oaths. How on earth she had ended up creeping down the halls of the Nemesis, Arcee had no idea, but frankly she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get off the boat and get back to base!

“Ratchet, you’d better answer me and open a ground bridge or I’m going to...” Arcee’s useless threat trailed off as she tapped her comlink and received nothing but static.

Footsteps caught Arcee’s audial and she froze, listening hard to the voices approaching.

“...Take whatever action necessary to make them cooperate, Breakdown,” Starscream was commanding. “If Lord Megatron hears of a few rogue Vehicons, he’ll surely blame it on me!”

“And we can’t have that, can we?” Breakdown muttered sullenly. “Because—what was it you told me? I’ll need to choose between you soon?”

“You idiot!” Starscream hissed. “How dare you even voice such a thing in these halls?”

“Sure, because you have a reputation to keep as a ‘humble servant’,” Breakdown argued.

Arcee was interested in the conversation, but the Cons were drawing closer, so she ducked into a nearby room and breathed a sigh of relief...

...which immediately caught in her throat.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Autobot femme, Arcee,” Megatron greeted her, completely calm.

If Arcee hadn’t been so shocked by the warlord’s sudden appearance, she would have opened fire, but instead she stood there dumbly with her jaw fallen, which she would curse herself for later.

“How is it that you infiltrated my ship?” Megatron asked as he tapped a nearby console, sealing the door behind Arcee. “Our signal is shielded.”

“You aren’t that hard to find,” Arcee bluffed awkwardly. Searching for something she felt comfortable with, she raised her guns. “Surrender, Megatron.”

Megatron laughed, sending chills over Arcee’s neural net. “You believe you can take me by yourself? Or is Optimus going to open a ground bridge and drop from the sky upon me?”

Arcee really wished that would be the case. As she was distracted by the idea, Megatron sprang, catching her up in one of his gigantic claws and propelling her against the wall. Arcee gasped for breath, realizing abruptly just how large he was compared to her.

“What are you waiting for?” she panted, glaring up at him. “You can crush me whenever you want.”

“That’s exactly why I am waiting,” Megatron responded thoughtfully. “I want you to outlive your preciousness before I crush you.”

Arcee felt a sudden rush of angered adrenaline and she kicked Megatron in the chest, making him drop her not out of pain but surprise. Somersaulting to her right, Arcee peppered him with laser fire, but her weapons were only powerful enough to make him wince. Growling, she put everything she had into it and yet he plodded steadily closer, ready to capture her and probably kill her out of annoyance.

Growing impatient with the annoyance of her guns, Megatron powered up his cannon. Arcee leapt behind some machinery for cover and the blast blackened the wall above her head.

“There is nowhere to go, Arcee,” Megatron called as Arcee darted behind some crates of energon, trying to remain as quiet as possible. She had to get to the console so she could unlock the door!

For a long while there was only the sound of their vents cycling the air. Then, out of the blue, Megatron questioned, “Do you give Optimus a hunt such as this when _he_ pays you a compliment? That _was_ a compliment, by the way, what I was saying about outliving your preciousness, because a femme such as you never could.”

Arcee was so flabbergasted by this statement that she accidentally knocked over the crates hiding her, alerting Megatron to her position. Leaping to her feet, Arcee sent out an arc of fire as she ran toward the console. Just as she leapt for it, Megatron’s cannon demolished the controls into dust. Arcee hit the ground hard, skidding on her chassis and hitting the wall with a pained grunt.

“Now you’re locked in here too,” she snapped as she brought herself up on one knee. She had felt a bundle of circuits snap in her other one on impact, she was almost certain of it.

“Only until I give Soundwave the order to manually open the door,” Megatron replied, smirking. His bulk loomed over Arcee, who cringed inwardly but kept his gaze, refusing to die with her optics closed like a coward.

Megatron held out a hand to help her up. Arcee stared at it in utter confusion. “...Why?” she demanded at last.

“Have I not made myself clear?” Megatron asked, raising an eyebrow dubiously.

Arcee clenched her teeth, gingerly placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her upright. Arcee hissed in pain as her left knee buckled, but Megatron placed his other hand on her shoulder and offered support.

Megatron sat her down on top of one of the crates she had knocked over and straightened her leg, looking it over critically. Even though the pain in her knee was severe, Arcee was more concerned by Megatron’s hold on her. How could such a cruel, sparkless monster be so _gentle_?

“Knockout will need to repair this,” Megatron mused, thumbing away some energon that was seeping from Arcee’s knee-plate.

“Ratchet can manage,” Arcee told him sharply. Megatron laughed—genuinely laughed!—and Arcee was stunned by its warmth.

“Ah, yes. You likely want me to drop you somewhere on the surface where you can achieve radio contact with the Autobots?”

Arcee nodded fiercely. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Megatron studied her with an unnervingly intent expression, reaching out and brushing one of his claws over one of Arcee’s pale pink cheek rims.

“ _That’s_ exactly what _I_ want,” he countered, grinning.

Megatron, lord of darkness and evil, master of all Decepticons, was flirting with her! Arcee couldn’t help but duck her head in embarrassment.

“How is Optimus so blind to you?” Megatron asked quietly. “He ought to keep you closer than this, letting you happen upon my ship unaided.”

Arcee swallowed with difficulty. “Well, if this is all you’re going to do to me, maybe it won’t be so bad until I’m rescued.” Then she bit her tongue, unable to believe she had said that.

“Oh, there’s no need for a rescue mission,” Megatron replied easily. “Knockout is going to patch you up and then I’m going to release you.”

Arcee gaped at him. “Just like that?” She ought to blast him in the face for telling such a lie, but he was still holding her ankle, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger and being _very_ distracting.

“Just like that,” Megatron agreed. “One chance for Optimus to see what he’s missing. Next time, I’m going to keep you and make you my queen.”

Before Arcee could shudder at the thought, Megatron had scooped her up and ordered Soundwave to unlock the door. They were greeted by a group of Vehicons, who powered their weapons when they saw Arcee.

“Stand down!” Megatron commanded immediately. Although they glanced at each other curiously, the slaves had no choice but to obey. Nodding approvingly, Megatron began the walk to the medbay. Arcee reluctantly admitted she wouldn’t be going anywhere with an injury and relaxed, leaning her head against Megatron’s shoulder as he carried her, holding her securely in both hands almost like a captive but not quite.

Like a _queen_. A captive queen. Arcee suppressed a mournful groan. This was wrong. This was sick. This was pretty fragging romantic.

 _Scrap_.

 


End file.
